


Soliloquies

by StarlightPhoenix



Series: Ohana Means Family [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bonding over Shakespeare, Family Bonding, Gabriel doesn't like food and that's okay, Gen, Nice Gabriel (Good Omens), No beta we fall like Crowley, Slice of Life, everyone gets along, implied Crowley was Raphael before he Fell (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightPhoenix/pseuds/StarlightPhoenix
Summary: Gabriel brightened at his words. Scripts were Gabriel’s thing. He was made to read words out loud. Reading Hamlet as a book was why Gabriel looked miserable when Crowley came in. Determined, yes, but miserable.“If you want to practice, try the ‘to be or not to be’ soliloquy,” Aziraphale offered. “It’s one of the most famous monologues in Shakespeare’s works, and the standard piece for Shakespearean actors to master.”“I’m not an actor,” Gabriel replied, but he was flipping through the pages to find the soliloquy.Or, Gabriel and Aziraphale bond over Hamlet. Crowley is mostly okay with this.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Crowley & Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: Ohana Means Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794883
Comments: 16
Kudos: 171





	Soliloquies

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? A new series? About time, really. 
> 
> Raphael!Crowley is implied in this fic and universe, but not explicitly stated.

“Angel!” Crowley burst in, hands full with boxes. “Look what I brought!”

Two angels looked up. Aziraphale beamed at the sight of the pastry box that Crowley went through great lengths to acquire. The logo was from a shop in London, one that Aziraphale mournfully said was too far from their cottage to visit regularly. Distance, Crowley thought, was a terrible excuse to not dote on his angel. 

The other angel was Gabriel. He was holding a book in one hand, as if he was studying the book itself and not the words. It was endearing, only because he knew that it was for Aziraphale’s sake. 

“Oh my,” Aziraphale exclaimed, getting up to relieve Crowley of the boxes. “You didn’t have to, my dear.”

“Eh, I wanted to go on a drive. Found myself in London,” he dismissed. 

Aziraphale took the boxes to the kitchen, bustling with excitement. The scent of baked goods floated through the cottage, sugar and vanilla enticing Aziraphale to quickly find a plate and dig in. 

Gabriel watched the movement silently from his position on the couch. The logo and cake boxes meant little to him. 

Crowley plopped down beside him, glancing at the book. It was, Crowley noticed in amusement, a copy of Hamlet. 

“What’cha reading?” He asked anyways. 

“A book.” 

He forced himself not to roll his eyes. “Yes. What book?”

“It’s a play called Hamlet. Aziraphale says it’s famous.” 

He smiled. “Yeah, everyone knows Hamlet. We watched the original Shakespeare performance, back in… Oh, 16-something.” 

Aziraphale had offered him grapes. Crowley had offered to make the play a success after Aziraphale looked at him with those wide eyes. It worked out. 

“It’s interesting,” Gabriel said. “A bit violent.” 

“It’s one his gloomy ones. Try a comedy next.” 

Gabriel’s response was cut off by Aziraphale reentering the living room. The angel had two plates of coffee cake, one slice considerably smaller than the other. The smaller slice was placed in front of Gabriel. Aziraphale set down the other plate by the armchair, disappeared into the kitchen again, came back with tea, then finally settled down to enjoy. 

Gabriel frowned at the plate. 

Crowley knew that Gabriel didn’t like food. Anyone who spent more than a minute with the Archangel could figure that out. And it was fine. Gabriel didn’t have to like food, as long as he kept his comments to himself. 

Still, Gabriel bullied Aziraphale for six thousand years, so Crowley thought food was a relatively painless punishment. Aziraphale always offered some food or drink, and between Crowley wanting Aziraphale to be happy and Michael wanting some peace and quiet, Gabriel was required to at least try it. 

Aziraphale cut a tiny slice of the coffee cake for Gabriel. It was barely two bites, really. Anyone else would be offended by the tiny slice. 

Gabriel continued to frown at the cake, picking up the plate and stabbing the dessert with his fork. “What is it?”

“It’s coffee cake from this wonderful bakery in London,” Aziraphale answered, wiggling in delight. “It’s been so long since we visited, so this is a wonderful surprise! Their coffee cakes are delicious, and they have the best German chocolate cake, if you’re interested. Crowley brought home a slice of that, as well!”

Aziraphale’s eyes drifted back to the kitchen where the German chocolate cake still sat. 

Crowley kept his eyes on Gabriel. The Archangel kept poking it as if he was waiting for something to pop out. 

After a long minute of stabbing, Gabriel took a bite on his fork. The piece was less than half of the slice, which was impressive in its smallness. When he finally put the fork in his mouth, his face scrunched up in disgust, though he did manage to swallow it. 

“It’s so sweet,” Gabriel complained. “I don’t like it.” 

Which Gabriel also said about chocolate cake, vanilla cake, banana bread, banana pudding, strawberry ice-cream, strawberry pie, apple pie… pretty much any dessert that Aziraphale offered.

Gabriel let the plate loudly clank as he set it down with more force than necessary. 

Aziraphale, to his credit, was not bothered by Gabriel’s dismissal of the cake. The angel took his own bite of coffee cake and moaned in appreciation. 

“Wonderful,” Aziraphale praised. “Simply delightful. Thank you, Crowley.”

Even after months of compliments and praise, Crowley went red at the kind words and smile. He mumbled a response under his breath, too quiet to make out the words, but Aziraphale understood the gist of it. 

Crowley turned to Gabriel, desperate for a distraction. “So, what did Aziraphale tell you about Shakespeare, anyways? Do you actually know about him? Or his plays?”

“He’s a famous writer,” Gabriel recited. “He wrote plays and sonnets. His plays are still performed, and many are taught in schools, including Hamlet.” 

“Pretty solid understanding,” Crowley praised. “But here’s the most important part: you can’t just read his plays like a book. It’s not a book. It’s a script for a show. That makes it easier to read and understand.” 

Gabriel brightened at his words. Scripts were Gabriel’s  _ thing. _ He was made to read words out loud. Reading Hamlet as a book was why Gabriel looked miserable when Crowley came in. Determined, yes, but miserable. 

“If you want to practice, try the ‘to be or not to be’ soliloquy,” Aziraphale offered. “It’s one of the most famous monologues in Shakespeare’s works, and the standard piece for Shakespearean actors to master.”

“I’m not an actor,” Gabriel replied, but he was flipping through the pages to find the soliloquy. 

“Act three, scene one,” Aziraphale directed. 

Crowley met Aziraphale’s eye and they shared an amused look. Aziraphale was curious to see how Gabriel would recite the part. Even if Gabriel’s recital was completely monotone and lacking any depth, Crowley was sure that Aziraphale would enjoy it, if only because the angel loved Shakespeare and would applaud the effort. 

Gabriel took a minute to read over the words, carefully considering what they meant. Almost every actor and academic interpreted the soliloquy differently, emphasizing different words and phrases, pausing at different intervals, using different tones, from grave and serious to an absentminded and distracted tangent. Unlike modern actors or academics, the old English wasn’t an issue for an angel who was around during Shakespeare’s life, so Gabriel at least understood the words. 

Then, Gabriel began reading out loud. 

“To be, or not to be:  _ that _ is the  _ question: _ Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them. To  _ die: _ to  _ sleep; _ no more; and by a  _ sleep, _ to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.”

Gabriel didn’t have the usual stressed words or exaggeration of a Shakespearean reading. The emphasis was gentler, more natural. It wasn’t the existential crisis of a man feinting insanity. Rather, it was the musings of an Archangel who wondered about humanity’s obsession with life and death without understanding, asking idle questions out loud but without any real stakes. 

“The fair Ophelia, nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remember'd.” 

Aziraphale burst into applause. “That was excellent! Bravo!”

Gabriel startled, looking up at the sudden noise. Aziraphale was beaming at the performance, enamored by Gabriel’s natural talent for speaking. Crowley gave his own applause. Gabriel was  _ good. _ It was the completely wrong tone, according to most academics, but it said a lot about Gabriel. 

“Thank you,” Gabriel said, pleased with the enthusiasm. 

“It was marvelous,” Aziraphale went on. “A true delight!” 

“Good job,” Crowley agreed. “Maybe you should reconsider not being an actor.”

“Thank you,” he repeated, smiling. 

Crowley wondered if Gabriel was praised in Heaven, or if the Annunciation and Quran were considered part of his duty and forgotten. Gabriel certainly didn’t have the pride of an angel repeatedly praised. He was almost bashful, which was definitely a new look on him. 

“Would you like to see a production of Hamlet?” Aziraphale asked Gabriel. 

“A production,” Gabriel repeated. “In a theatre?”

“Yes. We have two tickets for a performance, if you’d like to come with me.”

_ “Excuse me,” _ Crowley interrupted before Gabriel could answer. “Those two tickets are for you and  _ me.” _

“You hate the gloomy ones,” Aziraphale huffed. “At least Gabriel appreciates Hamlet.” 

“I’d love to,” Gabriel agreed, shooting Crowley a smug look. “It would be interesting.”

Crowley gaped. Gabriel didn’t even say he liked Hamlet! He called it violent! All it took was one soliloquy for Aziraphale to take Gabriel to a play? Crowley could recite those! It wasn’t hard! 

He made a show of crossing his arms and looking away. “Fine. Go without me. It’s not like I bought those tickets or anything.” 

The two angels ignored him. 

“You’ll enjoy it,” Aziraphale said to Gabriel. “It’s a masterpiece.” 

“I should finish reading it first.”

“Oh, no need,” Aziraphale assured. “That would spoil the ending!”

“I guess I’ll be here,” Crowley said to the wall. “Alone. Without anyone who cares about me.” 

“You already saw Hamlet with Aziraphale,” Gabriel said. “It’s my turn. I want to know how it ends.”

The spoiler sat on the tip of Crowley’s forked tongue. But, this was the first common interest between Gabriel and Aziraphale. There were 36 other Shakespearean plays that he could watch with Aziraphale. Gabriel could have Hamlet. 

“Just remember to dress nicely for the theatre,” Crowley said instead. “Suit. Tie. You know.”

He nodded seriously. “Of course.” 

“And tell me if you thought it was bad. I hate Hamlet.” 

“I will,” Gabriel assured. “Though I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

Crowley huffed for the drama, but he was already planning for his alone time. He now had at least four hours to himself. He could do  _ so much _ yelling during that time. Crowley avoided yelling at his plants when Aziraphale was reading, but Aziraphale was  _ always _ reading, and now Crowley had lazy plants that thought spots were acceptable. It worked out.

Aziraphale and Gabriel were still talking about Shakespeare. More specifically, about the impact he had on the English language. 

It was the most boring conversation in the world. Crowley would rather listen to TV static. 

It was also the sound of Aziraphale and Gabriel getting along. 

There was nothing else Crowley would rather listen to. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is hopefully the beginning to more one-shots centered around our five siblings and Aziraphale. Subscribe if you want to see more :)
> 
> Fun fact: This wasn't supposed to be an Aziraphale-centric fic or about Shakespeare. It just... happened. Crazy how fanfics just write themselves sometimes. 
> 
> Thank you in advance for reading, giving kudos, and commenting! I love all of you!
> 
> And as usual, you can find me at [cleverlittlejay.tumblr.com](https://cleverlittlejay.tumblr.com/) for more GO stuff! Come say hi!


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